


Christmas Challenge

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s02e10 Noël, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-18
Updated: 2008-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: An alternate universe-ish piece. Post-Noel





	Christmas Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: This was a challenge. The challenge was to simply give Donna an alternate background that wasn't Dr. Freeride.  


* * *

“Donna’s going to take you to the emergency room.” 

“She knows?” 

“She was the one who guessed.” 

“I don’t need an emergency room.” 

“Come on. It could be infected, you could have a thing.” 

“What thing?” 

“How the hell do I know?” 

********* 

Donna pulled the car into a parking space outside the emergency room of GW. She shut the engine off and turned to Josh. 

“Come on.” 

Josh looked over at the emergency room sign lit up at night and turned back to her. 

“No.” 

“Josh,” Donna said calmly. “you have to have that hand looked at.” 

“Fine. But I can’t go in there.” He said softly. 

She watched him for a minute as he watched her back. He looked tired and emotionally drained. She could only imagine what his meeting with Dr. Keyworth was like tonight. He’s looked freaked out since she met him in the lobby with Leo. She’d actually gotten used to that look from him the past couple weeks. She could tell that he knew something was wrong, but since he didn’t know how to fix it, he ignored it. She determined that it must have finally come to a head the after the Congressional Christmas Party. He didn’t linger after Yo-Yo Ma was done, and when he came in that morning with the bandaged hand, she went to talk to Leo. 

“This emergency room in particular or you can’t go to any one tonight?” 

“I don’t think I can handle any emergency room tonight.” He said softly. 

“How are you going to get your hand looked at then?” she countered. 

He stared at her for a few moments. “Please.” He whispered. 

“Josh.” She sighed. 

“Please, Donna, can’t you just do it?” he pleaded quietly. 

“What if it needs to get stitched?” 

“He said I keep reliving the shooting.” Josh responded. 

That did it. Donna turned the car back on and pulled out of the parking lot. Silently, Josh turned to look out the window as she drove. He furrowed his brow when he noticed she’d pulled up to his apartment. She put the car in park and turned expectantly at him. 

“Go inside and get stuff to stay over my place tonight.” She directed. 

“Why?” he replied. Not that he actually cared. He was happy that he didn’t have to spend tonight by himself. 

“My equipment is at my place. And you’re going to be in no shape to be by yourself when I’m done.” 

“Oh, so you really *do* have equipment?” 

“Joshua,” she sighed. “don’t be a pig. Hurry up. I’m double parked.” He smiled, got out of the car and ran inside. Five minutes later, he was coming back out with a bag. She saw that he had changed while he was in there. 

The drive to her apartment didn’t take long. Once inside, Josh dropped onto the couch as Donna headed back to her bedroom to change. She fished her first aid kit out of the bathroom and returned to the living room. She dropped it at Josh’s feet, then walked over to her computer desk and pulled the bright desk lamp over to the coffee table in front of the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later with a bottle of whiskey. Josh watched her all this time intrigued. He’d seen glimpses of this Donna while he was recovering, but never asked her about it. 

Of course, he knew from her background check that she was a registered nurse in good standing in Wisconsin and her job before she came to work for the campaign was working at the University of Wisconsin Trauma Center. But she never seemed interested in talking about it. He often wondered why she would give up a career like that and a salary like she probably had to work for nothing for a Governor’s campaign for President and then the White House. Nurses made really decent money; she had to have taken a pretty significant pay cut. She put the whiskey on the table and sat sideways on the couch facing him. She turned on the lamp and adjusted the neck until the bright light shone between them. 

“Donna,” Josh asked cautiously as she picked up his injured hand. “you’re not going to clean the cut out with the whiskey, are you?” 

“Don’t be an idiot.” She replied carefully unwrapping his hand. “You’re going to drink it.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“What about my sensitive system?” he smiled. 

“Josh, these things are done in hospitals with pain medication. I’m not going to have you wincing and pulling your hand away every time I move toward it with tweezers.” 

“Tweezers?” he croaked. 

“You put your hand through a glass window, Josh.” Donna reminded. “I promise you, you didn’t get the glass out of your hand. Plus, when I drag you into the bathroom and wash the wound out with soap and water, it’s going to hurt. A lot.” 

“Soap and water?” 

“It’s best.” 

She pulled the bandage away and studied his hand. It was cleaner than she thought it was going to be, but she still saw some shards of glass. She turned his wrist so she could see it at different angles. It might not need to be stitched. She might be able to get away with butterfly bandages that she had. Donna opened up her medical kit and pulled out a small plastic container with liquid inside. She opened it up and pulled out a pair of tweezers. 

“Don’t nurses normally wear gloves?” Josh asked. 

“Yeah. But you’re not diseased and neither am I.” Donna replied. “Besides, the latex dries out my hands. Take a shot of the whiskey.” 

Josh opened the bottle and brought it to his face. He hesitated a second, looking over at her. 

“Down the hatch.” She ordered. “Make it a good one.” He closed his eyes, threw his head back and took a long swallow. Donna laughed at his reaction to the liquor. His eyes popped open and he shook his head twice. “Take another one in a few minutes.” 

“I don’t want to get drunk.” 

“I won’t let you.” 

“Okay.” He sighed pushing his injured hand toward her. “Do your worst.” 

Donna began to gingerly poke around the cut, gently pulling the glass out and setting it down on the coffee table. Periodically, she’d turn his hand to get a better angle. She worked quickly and quietly. Josh leaned his head about against the couch and watched her quietly. Her hands were warm on his. He liked seeing her like this, taking care of him like this. While he was in the hospital, he caught her a few times studying his chart. Once while he was recovering at home, he’d gotten sick. He ended up with a cough that hurt like hell, along with a fever. She had brought him in a pill cocktail, something for the fever; something for the pain; something for the cough. He took them and half an hour later felt better. It was only later that he realized he never even asked what she handed him. It was that thought that it struck him he realized he had unconditional trust in her. Even in an element that he didn’t know her in, he trusted her completely that she was doing something to help him. She changed the bandages and checked for infection. She never asked if she could do it, and he never questioned her skill. It was just understood. 

He took another sip of the whiskey as he noticed that her poking around the cut had made it start to bleed a bit again. She systematically removed glass and wiped away the blood. 

“Donna?” he asked quietly. He figured if there was ever an opportunity to talk about her past, this was it. 

“I was a pediatric trauma nurse.” She replied anticipating his question. 

“How’d you know I was going to ask that?” He asked incredulously. 

“I told you,” she smiled. “I’m tuned to you.” 

“I guess so.” He laughed. “Why did you stop?” 

“Sometimes you can’t save the kid’s life, Josh.” She said quietly. “It gets to you after a while.” 

“But to stop completely?” he asked watching her work still. “Why didn’t you just change departments?” 

Donna laughed in answer to his question. But it was more of a sarcastic laugh than a happy one. 

“What?” he asked quietly. 

“I wanted to work where people didn’t get hurt for a change.” She replied. “Ironic, right?” He watched her as she continued to check for more glass, not meeting his eyes. “I had been thinking of a career change for a while, but I just couldn’t make up my mind on what I wanted to do it. One night, I was working and a man and his four year old son were brought in. They were in a snowmobiling accident. What the hell the father was doing with his four year old son on a snowmobile, I have no idea. But they crashed, and the son had major head and chest trauma. We couldn’t save him. That kind of thing was common in my job, it’s not like this was a special case or anything, but it just got to me. I went home, turned on the t.v. and saw the end of a debate with the President. As I listened to him talk, I thought, this is something I could do. This is someone that believes in the same things I do and wants to do good. I could find a new direction for myself. I looked up the campaign on line, told my parents my plan, gave my job two weeks notice, and drove to New Hampshire.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong with the kid, Donna.” Josh said softly. He couldn’t imagine her not being good at anything. 

“I didn’t.” she said. “Well, *we* didn’t. Those things just happen.” She put the tweezers on the table and pulled him up. “Come on.” She said leading him towards the bathroom. “Time for the crappy part.” 

“That wasn’t the crappy part?” 

“Nope. The cleaning is.” She said turning on the light and the cold water. 

“Shit.” He sighed. 

“Remember how it felt to get shot?” she asked. 

“I’ve been remembering it for weeks, Donna, that’s what got us here.” 

“Well, this isn’t going to hurt as much as that.” 

“That’s supposed to put it into perspective?” he laughed. 

“It’s supposed to help you not be a baby.” She pulled his hand under the cold water, added some soap and began to scrub. 

“Ow! Shit Donna!” he screamed. 

“That’s you not being a baby?” 

“Fuck!” 

“Are you sure you had a 760 verbal?” 

Josh bit his lip against more pain induced outbursts as Donna finished up cleaning his hand and reached for the bandages she left in the bathroom and began to dress the wound. 

“Hey, Donna?” Josh replied quietly. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“He said I had post-traumatic stress disorder.” 

“I figured.” She shrugged. 

“That’s how you figured it out?” 

“It’s not uncommon, Josh.” She replied. “At least not to me. It doesn’t mean you’re crazy.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She finished with the dressing. On impulse, she leaned down and kissed the bandaged hand. She thought she’d see surprise on his face when she looked back up at him, but he was staring at her intently. “Kissing always makes it feel better.” She said softly. He looked at her a moment longer, and then leaned in and kissed her on the lips. It was a soft kiss, but he lingered for a moment. 

“What do you know? You’re right.” He said softly pulling away. She smiled and kissed him again. This was probably a bad idea, she thought. His poor psyche had been thrown in the shredder today. But he didn’t seem to care. 

“Donna?” he said breaking the kiss, but not pulling away. 

“Yeah?” 

“There are other ways to save someone’s life, you know.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded and she looked up at him. The pain she saw in his eyes earlier at the White House was gone for the moment. “You’re good at that way, too.” He leaned in and kissed her again. 

“Merry Christmas, Donnatella.” 

”Merry Christmas, Joshua.” 

THE END


End file.
